Haven Magic Read Online Free

young men with their task that at first Brand missed the movement of a shadow in the white-barked birch trees on the west side of the river. The second time, however, the water seemed disturbed, and he looked up. What he saw amongst the trees left him gaping.
    The shadowy figure of a man on horseback stood there—at least it was man-shaped—but obscured somewhat by the long afternoon shadows of the trees. His surprise was not in the sight so much, although it was strange to see a man in the River Haven clad all in black and staring silently, but rather in the feeling that overcame him. Later, he could only describe it as dread—the feeling of a cornered rabbit that turns to face the fox’s teeth. Instinctively, he hunkered down, losing his grip momentarily on his pole as fear numbed his fingers.
    He saw a silvery glint of something in the shadow’s hands. Something long and bright.
    “You’re losing your pole!” shouted Jak, turning back to see what the matter was.
    Sure enough, it had slipped completely from his hands and was drifting away. Brand made a grab for it, caught it, and nearly fell in as the skiff wallowed with the sudden movement. After a precarious moment, he regained his feet, saved by years of boating experience. He turned back to the shore, ignoring Jak’s perplexed frown.
    “What’s gotten into...” began Jak, but he halted, following Brand’s wide-eyed stare.
    They looked together at the trees along the western shore. There was nothing there.
    “What was it?” hissed Jak, stowing his pole and unlashing the crossbow. “Was it a merling?”
    Brand shook his head. “It’s gone.”
    “That’s the edge of the Deepwood and the Deepwood is full of merling dens. It probably slipped into the water. You get the boathook. If I see its froggy eyes pop up, I’ll chance a shot at it,” said Jak, hurriedly putting his foot into the stirrup of his crossbow and cocking it.
    “No, no merling...” said Brand. “It was a man—maybe.” He quickly described what he had seen, leaving out only his feeling of cold dread.
    Jak stared at him for a long moment, and Brand feared that even his brother was not going to believe him. It did seem very odd, even to him. But finally, Jak nodded, placing a bolt into the slot of the crossbow.
    “It’s been a strange autumn,” was all that he said.
    They watched the water and the trees for a time, but nothing else happened.
    “We must get our offering to Riverton before dark,” said Jak when it seemed clear that the shadowy figure would not return. “The Harvest Moon is almost full tonight.”
    Brand quietly agreed.
    They spent the rest of the trip tensely watching the western shore. The river moved below them, carrying the skiff rapidly downstream in the narrow portions, barely creeping or swirling backward in the wide slow parts. They knew every mile of the river, every deep, backwashing eddy and pole-catching snag. More importantly, since the river changed somewhat with the seasons and the years, they knew how to tell a new snag just by the way the current wavered as the water passed over it. Like all the folk that lived in the River Haven, they felt most at home when near running water, or preferably on running water.
    Feeling the chill breath of the night that lay ahead, Brand half wished he had worn his newest thigh-high boots, dreading the intrusion of river water and squishy delta mud when they had to wrestle the cargo up to the docks. These older boots were no longer thigh-high as he had grown so greatly this past year. He had not yet been able to bring himself to wear his new boots on the river, wanting both to keep them clean and new, and at the same time wanting to savor the comfortable softness of the old ones.
    Autumn had come early this year, very early. It seemed that winter was already on its way, hard on autumn’s heels. The Black Mountains to the east and the higher peaks of Snowdonia to the north were already dusted with caps of snow. Hail had